With Hurried Feet, We Move
by Loveandcoffeeandsimplicities
Summary: Bughead. I do not own the comics or show.
1. Chapter 1

_Elizabeth, honestly, are you eating for two these days? _

Alice Cooper's words rolled around in Betty's mind, leaving her burning with shame at the thought of every head at the dinner table snapping up to look at her. Polly had pulled her aside and told her to pay no mind to what their darling mother had to say but that was the problem: Betty _always _listened to the words Alice Cooper uttered, both good and bad. And lately, they had been pretty bad. Sighing, Betty stood in front of her mirror, twisting and turning her body at different angles to see if she could see what had bothered her mother so much.

Eventually, she gave up scrutinizing herself and made a vow to wake up an additional hour earlier than normal and go for a very long, very calorie burning run the following morning. It wasn't much but it was a start. And that was good enough for her.

XXX

Her alarm went off at four-thirty sharp and Betty was suddenly wide awake upon pressing her palm down on the off button. Pushing herself up from her bed, she stood up and made her way to her chest of drawers where she pulled out yoga pants and one of her dad's old college sweaters, before slipping into her tennis shoes she left by the foot of her bed. Throwing her hair up into a tight ponytail, Betty made her way down the stairs quietly, careful to not wake up anyone else in the house. Then, she was outside, the cool air tickling her face.

XXX

As Betty's feet hit the pavement, every word that ran through her mind was Alice's beratements, tantalizing her to run faster, harder, further. She ignored the stitch in her side in favor of finishing strong. The streets were quiet at this time and, while she knew it was a relatively safe town, Betty stayed tucked close to the road, head up, and eyes peeled. When her hour was up, she had managed to loop back to her house, out of breath and sweating. She took a moment to calm her erratically beating heart, knowing that no matter how much her mother would approve of this morning run, Betty still needed to present herself as a lady.

Once she was absolutely certain she had her breathing under control, Betty opened her door quietly, letting herself enjoy the coolness of the front foyer.

"Where have you been?" Polly's voice sounded surprised, and Betty looked up.

"Oh, hey. Nowhere. I just went for a run, Pol," Betty replied, and Polly quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

"And since when do you workout before the sun is up?" Polly queried, and Betty shrugged.

"Just felt like changing things up a bit this morning," she remarked.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with what was said at last night's dinner, would it?" Polly asked, and Betty quickly shook her head.

"No, I've been meaning to do a bit more cardio each day. Cheerleading practice is good for core strength, but running helps clear my mind," she lied, superstitiously crossing her fingers behind her back.

Polly assessed her before nodding her head. "Alright. You better go shower before you're late for breakfast."

Betty sighed but nodded. Breakfast. How was she supposed to get around Alice's condescending tone this morning?

XXX

When she was ready for school, Betty went back down stairs to the smell of fruit and pancakes. Opting out of the pancakes completely, Betty grabbed a handful of fruit before glancing at her mom.

"I've got to go edit something Juggie wrote for the paper. I'll be home tonight," she said, and Alice waved her off. It was that simple.

XXX

In the coming weeks, Betty would find herself falling into an obsessive routine. Wake up every morning at four-thirty, go for an hour run around the town, get back home, manage a few pieces of fruit, and then bolt from the house, where she wasn't under the watchful eye of her sister. (Or the scrutinizing one of her mother, for that matter.) Once she got to school, she'd be free of worries about having to eat in front of people. Archie and Veronica were wrapped up in themselves; Kevin and Moose were always off in some unused classroom, claiming they needed some time together during lunch; and Jughead was busy with the Serpents. No, she was doing just fine. Until she wasn't.

The first time it happened, she had stood up too fast from her desk in the office. One minute she was standing up, the next minute she was peering into the eyes of one worried looking Toni Topaz.

"Betty? Are you okay?" Toni asked from where she was crouched down next to her. Betty, who couldn't ignore the tremors in her hands, nodded faintly.

"I'm fine, stood up too fast," she managed. Toni eyed her suspiciously but nodded, nonetheless.

"Here," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a package of crackers. "Eat these."

Betty looked at the crackers, then Toni, then the crackers again before exhaling shakily.

"Thanks, Toni," she said, managing to be able to take a bite off one cracker. Toni was satisfied and left Betty alone for the rest of the afternoon.

The second time it happened, there was a bigger audience.

Jughead, Veronica, and Josie were all at Pop's, enjoying their usual Friday night meal while Betty was sipping on a water and barely managing a salad. When she had her fill, she excused herself, and went to walk out, but found herself on the ground once more. When she came to, it was to see Jughead and Veronica staring at her in concern.

"How long was I out?" Betty asked.

"I think the better question is, "when's the last time you ate something of substance?" Jughead asked softly. She looked at him, noting the concern swimming in his orbs. Jughead and Betty had always walked the line of, "should they or shouldn't they", something all their friends thought they should. She just didn't want to bring him into the mess that was her family. She sighed.

"Juggie, you literally just saw me eat a salad," she reminded him.

"Correction: I saw you picking at a salad and gulping down water like you have been deprived of it for days," he murmured gently. At this point, he looked at Veronica, who nodded and stood up.

"Get her home safely, okay?" Veronica asked, and Jughead nodded, wrapping an arm around Betty's waist and helping her to stand up. Once she was comfortable on her own two feet again, he loosened his grip and they walked out of the shop and towards his motorcycle.

Once they were situated on it, Betty wrapped her arms around his waist and they were off into the night, wind kissing their cheeks tenderly.

XXX

The days passed and Betty began to fade more and more. Her mother was pleased, that much was clear. However, when she sat down at the lunch table, it was to an unusually somber group.

"What's wrong?" Betty asked immediately, looking at each of her friends in turn.

"Where's your food, Betts?" Jughead asked quietly, and she bit her lip.

"I had a big breakfast," she lied, but he shook his head.

"I talked to your sister. She says you barely manage a handful of fruit after an hour-long run and then you're out the door," he said, and she sighed. Traitor.

"What do you want me to say?" Betty asked in a small voice.

"We want you to say if you have a problem or if there's anything you want to talk about," Cheryl said gently, and Betty shook her head, swallowing the lump that had lodge itself in her throat.

"Nothing to talk about," she said.

"Betty, you look like a fucking stick," Archie said, voice hard. Betty jumped at his calloused tone but made no attempt to rebuke him for it.

When they could tell she wasn't going to say anything else, Veronica spoke up. "Sleepover, my place. All are invited."

"Oh, no, I…" Betty trailed off, wishing Veronica wasn't going to back her into a corner.

"_All _are invited," Veronica reiterated firmly, giving her a hard look. Sighing, she nodded.

XXX

The group was all there by the time Betty arrived at Veronica's, even Jughead. She didn't miss the snacks that were laid out – noting that none fell under a healthy category. Sighing, she pushed her duffel bag higher up on her thin shoulder, noting the way it dipped into the valley between her neck and shoulder blade. She should feel concern for that but all she felt was her mother's praise.

She placed her bag on Veronica's bed and joined the group in the living room where Archie forced a plateful of pizza into her hands.

"God Archie, give me a minute to get adjusted," she snapped, and he rolled his eyes.

"Just eat it, Betty," he said, and she shook her head stubbornly.

"No."

"Betty, I swear – ",

"I said no, Archie," Betty snapped, pushing the plate back into his hands.

"Betty what the hell is going on with you?" Cheryl demanded, brows furrowed in concern.

This wasn't happening. They weren't ganging up on her. They weren't, they weren't, they weren't. She trapped her palms with her nails, grounding herself to the life preserver they provided.

"Will you all just shut the fuck up for a minute?" Jughead asked, scowl on his face. They looked at him, the only one in the room who wasn't barricading Betty in a metaphorical cage. He looked at her for a long moment, and she him. They understood each other on a level that most people didn't and she suddenly knew he understood her exhaustion.

"Come talk with me, Betts," he murmured, holding his hand out to her. She wanted to shout at him; tell him she didn't need to be placated. However, that exhaustion that had crept into her bones was weighing down on her heavily and she didn't have the damn energy to argue anymore. She nodded, accepting his hand and allowed him to lead her to Veronica's bedroom. Once there, she sat down on the bed and he sat down backwards in Veronica's chair. They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Well?" Jughead asked softly.

Betty said the only two words that she knew would convey what she was feeling. "My mother."

She heard his sharp intake of breath and looked at him to notice a fire burning in his eyes.

"My mother -," she began.

"Does not have your best interests at heart, Betty," he interrupted her.

She looked at him for a moment.

"It's too much," she said.

"What is?"

"The pressure to be the person she cannot," she said. "I feel this weight around my heart every time she says something to me and it just clenches my heart tighter and tighter until it's three times too small."

"Betty, hon, why didn't you just say something?" Jughead asked softly.

"It's too much. I can't breathe," she muttered, feeling the weight of her mother's cold words crushing her. "I try so hard to be good enough for her and it's never enough. No matter what."

Jughead got up and went towards the bed, bending down on his knees and placing his hands inside of hers.

"That's why you have us to help you breathe," he murmured, and that was the permission she was looking for to let herself fall. She nodded, letting the first tear fall, followed in quick succession by a second and third.

"I want to run away, to where she can't get to me."

"Let me run with you," he replied, and she nodded, heart a little least constricted.

"Thank you," she said.

They didn't say anything else as they leaned towards one another, allowing their lips to meet in a chaste kiss. Betty reveled in it; reveled in the warm blanket of safety she found herself cocooned in. She was home. All was as it should be.

**Author's note: **This one was more personal. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are lovely.

Xxx


	2. Chapter 2

Betty studied her reflection in the mirror, wondering where it all went wrong. She had lost about twenty-five pounds so far and couldn't seem to stop wanting to lose more. Her mother was thrilled, of course, but her dad had started to grow concerned. At dinner, he'd pile on bigger helpings of carb-infested food onto her plate; both she and her mother would glare at him.

Then, there were the muffled conversations she heard through her parents door each night.

"Do you see what our daughter looks like, Alice? She's practically emaciated!" This was her father, an angry whisper.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Hal, she's fine," Alice, as cold as ever, replied.

Every time she would hear her parents arguing, she heard her door click open softly and Polly would come inside and crawl into bed with her.

"It'll be okay, Betty Boop," she whispered, hugging her sister tightly. Betty nodded. She knew it had to be in order for them to survive this as a family.

XXX

One evening found Betty at Jughead's trailer for dinner. He had insisted that she come over; that she wouldn't have to eat much, just something small. She had accepted. How could she not when he looked so hopeful?

Sitting at the small table in the trailer, she watched as FP plated up some food for her and Jughead and brought it over to them before sitting down at the table himself. After receiving an encouraging squeeze on the knee from Jughead, Betty picked up her fork and speared some of the pasta FP had taken the time to make from scratch. Twirling it around on her fork, she hesitantly took a small bite, chewing as slowly as she dared.

"So, Betty," FP began, looking at his son for a moment. "How have you been, honey?"

Betty blinked, licking her lips nervously. Was this a trick question? Was she was supposed to lie and say she was fine? Deciding to go with that option, she painted a smile on her face.

"I'm good, Mr. Jones," she replied, smile still firmly intact.

FP nodded, taking a sip of his water as he regarded her curiously. "How's Alice these days?"

There was a knowing looking in his eyes as he posed the question – one that Betty couldn't decipher.

Shrugging a shoulder, she replied. "She's good. Just busy with the paper with my father."

FP nodded but before he could ask her anything else, Jughead intervened.

"Your food is going to get cold, Betts," he said, looking pointedly at her pasta that she had shuffled around on her plate but hadn't actually truly touched. She nodded.

"You're right," she replied before choking down another bite.

XXX

Betty was still running every morning. Running from what or towards, she didn't know. Was it the demons that haunted her? Was it the idea of perfection that she had so viciously once tried to shed herself of? Whatever it was, she ran and ran, no matter what the cost was. Some mornings, Jughead would be at the end of the street she would be running, perched on his motorcycle. His simple tilt of his head towards the bike always indicated that he thought she had pushed herself enough. She never not got on the bike.

The days faded into fall and Betty found herself fading with them. Still. Still, she couldn't do anything to stop her coping mechanisms. If not eating let her have even a modicum of control in her life when everything else was just white noise, then she'd happily take it.

One cool morning found Betty getting ready to go for a run but as she opened her door, she found herself face-to-face with Archie.

"Arch? What are you doing here?" Betty asked.

"I'm here to go on your run with you," he replied.

"But…it's five in the morning," she replied in confusion.

Archie grinned. "You're not the only one who knows how to work out before the sunrise."

Betty nodded. "Fine. Just keep up."

As their feet hit the pavement, resounding thwacks bouncing off the road, Betty couldn't help but wonder why Archie was here, running with her.

"Did Jug send you?" Betty asked as she breathed as evenly as she could while running.

Archie looked at her in surprise before shaking his head. "Nah, I decided to run with you on my own."

"But…why?" Betty asked in confusion.

Archie shook his head again. "We can talk about it when we get to our resting point."

She fell silent then as did he, and they continued running for a solid thirty minutes before finally stopping outside of Pop's.

"Uhm, Arch? This isn't my resting point," Betty said.

"Well, today it is," he shrugged. She just stared at him and he sighed.

"Humor me, Betty," he muttered, and she rolled her eyes, before walking into the diner.

After sitting down at a booth, Pop Tate showed up, smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Hey, kids," he greeted them warmly, and both Betty and Archie smiled back at him. "Your usual?"

Archie nodded. "That'd be great, Pop, thanks."

Betty was quick to intervene before Pop could put her order in. "Actually, I'll just take a coffee. Thank you."

"A coffee?" Archie asked, and Betty hummed. "But, you don't even like the stuff."

"Well, I do now," she dismissed, closing the topic with a singular look directed at her best friend. Just then, the bell chimed and she looked up automatically. In came Jughead, beanie atop his head. How did she not hear his motorcycle? A quick, cursory look around told Jughead where Betty and Archie were and they watched as he made his way to them.

Taking a seat, he leaned in to kiss her.

"I'm all sweaty," she warned, and he grinned.

"My favorite," he smirked, and she rolled her eyes as she met his lips in a chaste kiss. When they pulled apart, Jughead placed his order once Pop came to get it. He ordered an extra side of fries with his burger and Betty looked at him curiously. He shrugged.

"Well, at least you'll have them for later," she smiled sweetly, and Jughead laced their fingers in between them on their seat.

"Something like that," he agreed. She looked at him inquisitively but he had turned his attention to Archie.

"How was the run?" Jughead asked. Eyes flicking to Betty briefly, Archie looked back at Jughead.

"Good. We're just going to take it easy on the way back though," he replied.

"We are?" Betty demanded.

"Yes," came the simultaneous reply.

Staring back and forth between the two guys, she sighed, realizing this was one battle she wouldn't win.

"Fine, whatever," she muttered, sipping at her coffee. She may have lost the battle but the war had just started and there was a storm brewing inside of her. If Archie and Jughead wanted to play dirty when it came to the decisions she made about _her _body and what she put it through, then game on.

**Author's note: Short one. Gonna try to get this one going again. I'm pretty sick right now so don't know when I'll actually have the chance to write this weekend but I'm going to try. Reviews and kudos lovely. Xxx **


	3. Chapter 3

As Betty's feet hit the pavement with heavy footsteps, this was a morning where she relied on muscle memory to direct her as her thoughts took her to other places. The previous morning, Archie had insisted that he and Betty walk back to their street and, despite her many protests, he was resolute and she found herself caving. She wasn't happy about it. Neither, did it seem, was the formidable Alice Cooper. She could still hear her mother's sharp, accusatory voice ringing in her ears clear as day as she ran.

"_Elizabeth," Alice began. "Please tell me I didn't just see you walking back home?"_

_Betty had sighed, unsure of how to avoid the rising conflict. Archie had already headed back to his house, satisfied that she would be okay with her family. Archie and his foolishness. _

_Looking at her mother, Betty sighed, knowing she couldn't very well lie. "You did. It won't happen again."_

"_Too right it won't," Alice said, and Betty made her way around her and up the stairs to her room. _

"_And, Betty dear? Make sure to wear the pink sweater I set out for you," Alice called after as she climbed the stairs. _

Staring at the half-crescent moons where she had dug her nails into her palms because of that little demand, Betty kept putting one foot in front of the other and running as hard as she could. It was almost as if she could outrun anything and everything that was chasing her, if she ran hard enough.

By the time she reached the end of the street she was on she had already spotted Jughead. He was leaning against his motorcycle, ankles crossed, and a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. Frowning, she made her way over to him, looking pointedly at the cigarette he held in his mouth.

"Those things kill, you know?" Betty asked, working on slowing down her heart rate. He looked at her, eyebrow quirked.

"Funny, I hear not eating kills you faster," he replied, shooting her a challenging look as he flicked ash from his cigarette. Betty sighed, knowing what he wanted. She was in no rush to speed up the process.

"Well, if you only came to berate me, Juggie, feel free to go now," she replied, stretching her legs before she got ready to run the way she came. She felt his hand resting gently on her shoulder and sighed, before looking at him.

"Betty," he whispered imploringly. "You're killing yourself."

"My mother doesn't see it that way," she muttered.

"I really couldn't give a damn about the way your mother sees it," he replied firmly. "You're killing yourself with whatever goal it is you're trying to attain."

Betty folded her arms and cast her eyes to the side, glaring at the trees that surrounded them.

"Are you done lecturing me or did you want to have a few more go's?" Betty asked bitterly, not sure what possessed her to talk in such a demeaning tone to her friend. Or whatever the hell it was he was for her.

Jughead stared at her for a long moment before taking one last drag of cigarette and stomping his boot-clad heel onto it, pushing it into the ground. "You don't see it now, but you will."

Betty furrowed her brow. "See what?"

"That no matter what you say, no matter how hard you try, there is nothing that will make me give up on you the way you have for yourself," he replied quietly. Betty's heart thumped harshly. When people worked on pushing passed the walls she built to guard her heart, she didn't know what to do. Run? Fight them? All she knew was she couldn't, wouldn't, stand there and let him see her vulnerability.

"I'm sorry Juggie, but I've got to go," she whispered, turning on her heel. She felt his hand fall to her shoulder, holding her in place with a gentle pressure.

"Betts," he began, and her eyes closed of their own volition.

"Please, Juggie, just let me go," she asked quietly, too afraid to speak any louder in fear that her voice would sound strangled.

She heard him release a whispering sigh; one that got carried away with the shaking of the tree branches.

"Okay," he said quietly, removing his hand from her shoulder. Not turning around, Betty put one foot in front of the other, tucked her head down, and began the run back to her street.

XXX

It was the following Monday that brought the first true sign of potentially having things slipping out from her control. She bumped into Veronica and nearly stumbled, flinging out an arm to catch herself on the locker. She watched as Veronica appraised her with narrowed eyes.

"B, what are you doing to yourself?" Veronica asked softly, and Betty's hands were shaking so much she had to tuck them into her ribcage before painting a weary smile across her lips.

"Going to my locker," she replied, knowing full well that wasn't what Veronica meant.

Veronica's eyes narrowed further. "I mean with your health."

Betty sighed. "V, it's nothing. Please just drop it."

Veronica shook her head stubbornly. "No, I will not. Not when you're hurting yourself."

She grabbed onto Betty's arm and dragged her into the bathroom. After making sure the stalls were empty, Veronica turned the lock, ensuring they wouldn't have any interruptions, before spinning Betty to face the mirror.

"Look at your arms, B," she said softly. Inhaling shakily, Betty turned to look at the mirror, scrutinizing her arms. She felt horror swell up in her like air swelled up in a balloon.

"Are they really that big?" Betty whispered, turning her arms different ways to seem them in new angles.

Veronica stared at her, thunderstruck.

"_Big_? B, honey, they're bone. No skin," Veronica replied, a look of horror etched across her face.

Betty couldn't see it the way Veronica saw it. All she saw was excessive skin hanging loosely from her arm. She closed her eyes, swallowing back the painful lump that had lodge itself in her throat. "V."

"Betty, just talk to me, please," Veronica pleaded, voice quivering. Betty opened her eyes to spot Veronica's lower lip wobbling and she knew that what she was doing to herself was starting to affect everyone else around her.

"I can't," Betty muttered, staring at a spot just to the left of her friend's head.

"Is this because of something your mom has said to you? Because if it is, all you have to do is say the word and I'll kick her ass myself," Veronica promised firmly.

Betty couldn't help it: she laughed. The sound was off and not like her usual happy laughter but it had been so long since she genuinely laughed, she'd be surprised if there wasn't a change to it.

"Are you laughing?" Veronica asked, gentle smile tugging at her lips.

"Yes," Betty replied, laughing harder. "I really don't know why I'm laughing so hard."

"It is okay to be happy you know," Veronica said quietly, and Betty nodded, cutting off her laughter with a sigh.

"I know," she whispered.

"Please, B, I'm begging you, please just talk to someone. If it can't be me, I can live with that. Just talk to _someone. _You're killing yourself," Veronica murmured. That was the second time someone had told her that in less than two days and it was starting to grow old. Staring at her reflection for a moment longer, Betty turned away before she punched the mirror and painted another smile on her face.

"I will," she said. But she wouldn't. And she knew it.

**Author's note: Jug isn't going to be Betty's knight and shining armor because I fully believe people have to save themselves when it comes to mental health demons. That's not to say he won't be there to support her because everyone needs a support system while recovering. I don't know how long this story is going to be but I have a general idea of how I want it to play out. Kudos and reviews lovely. Xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

Betty's feet hit the pavement as she ran fast and hard. With each step she took she felt a burning in her legs. If she was any less the wiser, she'd say it'd feel like her muscles were on fire but she wasn't stupid; she knew she was just about bone at this point. Still. It felt good knowing she was making progress. As her legs burned and her heart thumped along to the beat of an uneven drum, she wondered briefly if she was going to be meeting Jughead at the end of her run. The guy seemed to be there every day, stubborn to a fault about her not running the second portion of her run. Shaking her head, she stared straight ahead of herself as she ran.

By the time she got close to her destination point, her vision had turned spotty. Black pinpricks had popped along her eyesight, leaving her lightheaded. She slowed her pace, hoping to gain even a modicum of normalcy back. Breathing deeply, she felt her stomach churn and immediately bent over the nearest set of bushes she could find and threw up all that was in her stomach. Luckily for her, it just seemed to be water so it wasn't as disgusting as it could have been. Still. It was painful.

Soon enough, she felt a hand on her back and stopped wondering when he'd show up.

"Easy. Just breathe," Jughead said lowly, rubbing her back soothingly. She wanted to shrug off his hand; tell him she was _fine _but she was suddenly too damn tired to do anything except catch her breath and get her heartrate back to normal. When she was through being sick, she exhaled shakily one last time before standing back up to her full height and turning to face him.

"I didn't see you," she muttered, wiping the back of her wrist across her mouth. He appraised her for a long moment, not saying anything, and she suddenly felt raw and on display.

"Did you see _anything_?" Jughead asked after a few moments of long, painful silence. She felt judged from his accusatory tone alone and stiffened.

"That's not really your problem is it?" Betty demanded, folding her arms across her chest. She didn't know why she was so hellbent on pushing him away, not when all he had ever done was show his unconditional and unwavering support. Their kiss crept into her mind like an unwanted memory and she sighed. Half the problem was she was lying to herself: it wasn't an unwanted memory at all. Quite the opposite. She just didn't need him to fix her or whatever bullshit it was that he was trying to do.

"The hell it isn't, Betty Cooper," he replied calmly and perhaps that's what angered Betty the most. Perhaps she expected him to get angry with her; _wanted _him to get angry with her. She stared at him and he her, neither one sure of who the first would be to crack.

Eventually, she spoke up. "What do you want me to say, Jug?"

"I want you to say that you have a problem and are willing to seek help," he said softly and she felt her stomach twist and turn every which way. She wasn't ready to do that; nowhere near the ballpark of ready. She shook her head.

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm fine," she muttered.

"Betty," he said slowly. "You just threw up water because you had nothing in your stomach to throw up besides that. You're pushing yourself way too hard."

Opting to ignore the second part of his statement, Betty shrugged.

"At least I'm staying hydrated," she replied flippantly, and a small twitch of his mouth alerted her to the fact that he found her comment somewhat endearing.

"You're such a little shit, you know that?" Jughead huffed, and, just like that, their conversation had turned from intense to playful in a matter of mere seconds. She grinned.

"Yeah, but you love me," she sing-songed.

"Yeah, I do," he said quietly, and with a slip of his tongue, the conversation had shifted back into something more serious.

"What?" Betty asked, dumbfounded.

"I said, 'yeah, I do'," Jughead replied with more certainty than Betty knew she'd ever be capable of. She stared at him for a long moment, wondering how best to do damage control.

"Why?" Betty muttered a few moments later.

"Why not?" Jughead challenged her.

She thought about it. _Why_ was it so hard for her to accept the fact that someone wanted to love her? Was it because she didn't think she was worthy of love? Years under Alice Cooper's control would do that to a person but Betty didn't think that was completely it. She was resilient enough to not give her overbearing mother all the power to break her down. Well, not completely at least.

"Because," she murmured. "You deserve someone whole."

"I don't want someone whole," he countered. "I want _you_, Betty Cooper. I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but I need you like I need air to breathe; like the moon needs the stars to shine properly."

Betty felt a lump lodge itself in her throat. Here was this guy, this beautiful guy, with his heart in his hand and baring his soul to her, and she was fucking frozen. Couldn't think of a damn thing to say. She watched as he grabbed her hand and traced her knuckles, not an ounce of hesitation in his actions.

"It's okay if you can't say anything back," he assured her. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded, gritting her teeth as she fought the overwhelming onslaught of tears. It wasn't fair, she thought suddenly.

"It's not fair to you," she mumbled, and he looked at her.

"What's not fair?" Jughead asked quietly.

"That you can love me for what you see and I can't even like me for what I see," she muttered, flicking out her fingers in the attempts to not dig her nails into her palms.

Jughead sighed. "It's easy for others to see what we lack in the ability to see in ourselves."

She thought over his words, letting them resonate within her.

"I'm still not saying I have a problem," she warned him. "But, if you can love me while I'm not whole, then I can love you while you'll have me."

He studied her for an immeasurable amount of time and she fought with the impulse to wrap her arms around herself and hide. She knew that wouldn't do her any good. Not with him. He eventually cupped her cheek, gentle and slow. She hesitantly placed a kiss to his palm and he smiled softly in return.

"We'll get through this together," he murmured, and she looked at him.

"Alright," she whispered. "Alright."

**Author's note: Enjoy. Xxx **


End file.
